


Hartley Rathway- The Idea Dump

by Pheasant



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, One-Shots, One-Sided Attraction, Short Fics, Story Prompts, little ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pheasant/pseuds/Pheasant
Summary: I've been mildly obsessed with Hartley Rathway lately and have been coming up with a lot of ideas that I want to share but have been unable to write full stories for. I'm going to dump them all here in case I choose to make these into full stories.(I started out putting in a mixture of only prompt as well as fics, but that's apparently against site policy. I forgot about that, so I'm fixing it. Some chapters are now being hidden so I can put actual fics into the chapters in addition to the prompts.)





	1. Identity Confusion (Oliver/Hartley)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Hartley Rathaway getting married to Oliver Queen and becoming Hartley Queen. When said out loud (or written in the right handwriting), Hartley Queen can easily be confused with Harley Quinn (a crazy villainess who lives in Gotham and is in love with the Joker, for those of you who don't know who she is). This often causes confusion, especially when they travel out of town.

Hartley is woken up by a strange knocking on his front door. When he opens it, he sees a man he doesn't recognize who looks like he is fearing for his life.

"Hello?" Hartley, not being a morning person whatsoever, is still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he answers the door. He vaguely wishes that he had thought to grab coffee before he even tried to answer the door. "Who are you?"

"I was told that Harley Quinn is in this building," the man says nervously. He keeps fidgeting with his sleeves and Hartley distantly wonders if the man's life _had_ been threatened. "Th-the Joker's lookin' for her."

The sigh that Hartley lets out is one of the biggest ones in his life. "She isn't here," he says flatly. "My name is _Hartley Queen_. You and your people have the wrong address. Again. If she was here, I would send a personal notice to this "Joker" person. I have no desire to be woken up in the middle of the night yet again because of a stupid name confusion only to have to tell whoever is at the door that they have the wrong person. Last time I heard, she was safe and heading towards Gotham. Now goodnight."


	2. Glasses (Cisco and Barry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Hartley being able to compromise on almost everything in order to stay hidden from the police, but refuses to compromise on who he gets his glasses from. This person is the best at their trade, not to mention one of the few people he trusts, and he needs those glasses in order to see.

"Hey Cisco!"

"Hey, Barry. What's up? You look a excited."

"I think you're going to like this. Joe is almost certain that he found Hartley."

"What? How! He may have been a dick, but Hartley's a genius. He doesn't get caught unless he wants to be."

"Well... I'm not so sure about that. Someone has been buying prescription glasses from a man in the richer part of town, without using their actual name and have avoided the security cameras like he has something to hide. he's also paying for them in cash. From what we've found, the guy's an old family friend of Hartley's and Joe says that this guy was the only one in that circle that still talked to Hartley after he came out. He's also been doing hartley's glasses since he was a kid."

"You know... I'd say it was a trap, but those glasses were even more important to Hartley than his ' _precious research_ '. Seriously, he had a problem."

"So it's a good lead?"

"Pssh. If anything was going to get Hartley caught, it would definitely be those glasses."

"Thanks, Cisco! I think we'll be able to catch him now."

"Good. Give 'em hell, Flash."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one doesn't really have Hartley in it, but he is mentioned as a character. I was just thinking about how he was hiding from the authorities and what would likely get him caught. I also have a headcanon that Hartley is overly proud of his glasses.


	3. A Few Days to Himself (Hartley/Oliver Mentioned)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Hartley never becoming a criminal and also doesn't have powers. He's just your average gay genius with a hot husband..... and the tendency to have his name confused with a famous criminal's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a spin off of chapter one, which touches on a possible confusion between Harley Quinn and Hartley if he got married to Oliver Queen and became Hartley Queen. 
> 
> (Fun Fact: This entire set of ideas was created because my sister misheard 'Hartley' for 'Harley' one time and I was suddenly inspired.)

Starling City was a joy to be in, don't get him wrong. Some days, however, Hartley just _needed_ to feel the familiar thrum of Central City and experience the brimming life that it contained. After a long day of work and a tense week where he and Oliver pointedly did not discuss the way that Oliver risked his life daily to take down villains and exactly how much Hartley was not okay with it. He was a selfish man; losing what was his never sat well with him.

He walked slowly down the streets of Central City, a small smile on his face. He had always loved the city, no matter how many bad memories of his parents were strewn across the streets. Much to his please, Jitters was still up and running like he had remembered it. Now matter how many luxuries he had been able to experience, there was something just so wonderfully mundane about the little coffee shop that he could not stop himself from going. 

The door opened smoothly and he let himself inside. A dark-skinned woman was running the counter, a frazzled look on her face and frustration etched into her brows. _Iris_ , he recalled vaguely. _She had a foster brother who was sweet on her and would show up here a lot._ They got along nicely enough; he would pay for his drinks and ask her how she was and she'd talk his ear off about whatever she was pursuing about that time. He had not seen her in the little shop for a while, so her presence was a bit of a surprise. 

"Iris," he greeted. "I thought you had quit this job and gone for a well-paying job in journalism."

A smile spread across her face in a way that would have been attractive to anyone who had even a sliver of interest for girls. "Oh, hey Hartley! I did, but I'm working here part time to earn a little pocket money. I was hoping to save up for a car with the combined salary. So, what brings you out here to Central City? I thought you were busy being Hartley Queen and didn't have time for us commoners out in Central." The last comment was said in jest, accented by her light laughter and sparkling eyes. If she had been a boy, Hartley would have perfectly understood why her friend fell so hard for her.

"I hope you're joking," a snide voice said, suddenly cutting into the conversation. "You can't seriously believe that a _guy_ is Harley Quinn, let alone that one. She's in Gotham, duh. Don't you know anything?"

The obtrusive speaker was a man who was no older than twenty-five, with acne reminiscent of puberty and curly red hair that spilled down onto his fat-filled cheeks like some fort of greasy waterfall. His blue work shirt was faded and stained with the distinctive red of ketchup and other colors that the genius didn't dare identify. His jean shorts ended far to high up the thigh, giving an unpleasant view of the too-fat legs that seemed to be trying to escape his clothes. Since the man was standing directly next to him, Hartley could also smell what seemed to be a near-permanent salami odor mixed with vegetable oil and pickles. All in all, he could not be any more revolting, Hartley mused.

"I'm sorry," the genius replied slowly; the effort of being polite was putting actual strain on his shoulders to the point where he was worried they might break. "I think you are confused. She did not call me Harley Quinn and I assure you that she is quite capable of telling the different between us. My name is Hartley Queen."

"There! You did it again!" The man, who's nametag called him Albert, shoved a pudgy finger in the shorter man's face. "Harley Quinn! You can't say your name isn't Harley Quinn then say it is! You're really not a good liar, I hope you know."

Hartley looked upon the angry man with a blank look, noticing that the other customers were started to look uncomfortable at the man's outburst. Deep inside his soul, Hartley could feel himself sigh. So much for a relaxing few days to himself....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I don't think that all fat people are ugly or that having weight issues makes you less of a person. The man described in this story is just an asshole who happens to be overweight and is not a nice person. I'm not speaking as if all people of that weight are like this.  
> I'm also not saying that overweight people are revolting. Hartley's character is merely one that finds permanent stenches and stained clothes that don't fit to be quite unpleasant.


	4. Motivation (Iris and Hartley | Inspired by A Few Days to Himself)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about how Iris and Hartley are mildly friendly in A Few Days to Himself, so I started thinking about them as good friends that send letters to each other(The idea of letters comes from my headcanon of Hartley liking the old-fashioned simplicity of letters, especially because his parents would delegate him into sorting the mail. So he could give and receive messages as he pleased with the knowledge that his parents wouldn't know or care to know). I thought I would try it out, at least once.
> 
> This was inspired by A Few Days to Himself, but it is not in the same universe. Hartley just stopped living with his parents and is answering some questions for Iris' article about his parents' company.

Dear Hartley,

Why bother to start something if you don’t plan on finishing it? Does it make you feel productive, like you’re doing something with your life? I can understand why you would want to feel productive and like you have a purpose. The problem comes when others become invested in that purpose and then you leave it behind without a word. Why must you give people false hope when you know that they’ll end up upset later?

Sometimes you honestly intend to finish. You think that you can make it to the end and that you can keep moving. Then you get one small moment of rest and you forget how to move. Your eyes droop down and your breathing slows. You’re in intellectual slumber before you know it. 

You may be a genius and self-sufficient, but when you’re not working for someone you often leave things hastily and completely unfinished. As one of those people who is counting on you, I need you to get off of your ass and actually send me the information I need. Giving me a brief overview of the business practices used in Rathaway Industries should not take three and a half weeks. I know you’re alive, you’re just moping. 

If you don’t start working on that overview, I may just have to stop giving you on-the-house coffee. We both know that you depend on it, whether or not you can pay for it. I don’t think you can function enough to pull out the correct card in the morning, much less count change on the rare occasion you pay with cash, 

Sincerely,   
Iris West

P.S. I'm sorry for the rant at the beginning. Barry has been running me ragged trying to get everything ready for some science nerd display he's looking forward to. I love him, but he has the worst timing somedays. 

 

Dear Iris, 

I have the overview enclosed in the envelope. I was not _moping_ , I was in the middle of trying to build an air conditioner from scratch. Cisco said that he didn't think I could. 

I'm sorry, I guess. 

-Hartley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hartley's response is short because he's a little upset and does better with long, drawn-out rebuttals when they are verbal rather than written.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters that I use or mention in this collection, nor do I own their origins. No money is being made from this work.


End file.
